


May All Your Days Be Bright

by Dreamin



Series: The Adventures of the Two Hearts [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: Christmas, Crossover, Engaged Couple, Established Relationship, F/M, Granada Sherlolly, Married Couple, Older Man/Younger Woman, Victorian (non-TAB) Molly in the Sherlock Holmes (1984) world, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25352461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have a few more days to endure before their Christmas Eve wedding.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: The Adventures of the Two Hearts [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623925
Comments: 40
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> This is the first multi-chap fic for this series -- I thought the occasion warranted it. :)
> 
> Chapter One is inspired by a Christmas in July 2020 prompt -- "taking a walk in the snow."

“Is it too cold? Even with all of those skirts, you can’t be adequately insulated from this wind.”

Molly chuckled at her fiancé’s bout of overprotectiveness. “It’s fine, Sherlock.” She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze as they walked through the gently falling snow down the lane that led from the inn they were staying at. Yes, the bottom few inches of her skirt and petticoats were covered in snow and even the slightest breeze seemed to cut right through them, but in that moment, just two days before their wedding, the winter chill was the last thing on Molly’s mind.

They were in the north of England for a case, one that Sherlock swore would be his last case until February. Molly wasn’t about to hold him to his promise, not after seeing the various things he had done out of boredom. _Even I can’t expect to hold his constant attention forever._ With the case wrapped up, they planned to take the first train in the morning back to London, but until then, Molly had her fiancé all to herself.

Sherlock chuckled. “Yes, a warm and happy heart is the best protection against the cold.” He paused for a moment then murmured, “Are you certain you’re alright with a delayed honeymoon?”

“Of course. Who travels abroad in winter?” She smiled softly. “Besides, I would rather start our married life, and our intimate relations, in our home.”

The smile he gave her was softness and warmth itself, with the ever-present, it seemed, spark of desire beneath. “As would I. It’s settled then, the Continent can wait until Spring.” He led her over to a fallen tree beside the lane then dusted the snow off it before sitting down and gently pulling her into his lap.

Molly chuckled softly as she curled up against him. “I feel as though this has become my natural place to sit.”

“It has,” Sherlock agreed, his eyes dancing. “If I had my way, you’d never leave it.”

She smiled a bit. “I can just picture it – you telling Mrs. Hudson you’re unable to see any clients because your wife is sitting in your lap.”

He chuckled. “Actually, I fully intend to leave a note on the door advising all potential clients that, as a newlywed man, I can only see them for an hour a day, whichever hour I can bring myself to leave our bed.”

The sudden warmth in her face was more than enough to chase way the chill, but the love in his eyes made her smile. “Sherlock!”

His grin was unrepentant. “Perhaps not?”

She giggled. “I think that once you start taking cases again, we should schedule our … bedroom activities outside of the hours you receive clients, and not the other way around.”

He gave a most put-upon sigh. “If we must…”

Molly rewarded his humor with a soft, loving kiss.

* * *

As they walked back to the inn, Sherlock marveled at the contrast between the cold around him and the heat inside him. His heart was on fire for his Molly, as well as his loins, and he was grateful that their rooms were at opposite ends, so any temptation to visit her during the night would remain just a temptation.

_We have waited this long, what’s two more days?_

Still, he had to excuse himself once they had arrived at the inn, telling Molly he wanted to change but in reality, he needed cold water on his skin before he was ready to spend more time in his beloved fiancée’s company. By the time he joined her in the private sitting room they had rented, she was having a cup of tea and his fire had lessened to the ever-present spark.

“There you are,” she said with a smile when he sat down in the chair beside hers. “I took the liberty of ordering dinner for us.”

“Good,” he said as he poured himself a cup of tea. “I apologize, it took longer than I anticipated to find everything in my bags.”

“Sherlock,” she murmured, “you don’t need to hide anything from me. I’m a doctor, after all. I knew you were past the point of endurance, and I apologize for getting you there, again.”

He chuckled a bit as he relaxed. “Thank you, my dear, but it wasn’t just you, it was also the knowledge that in less than forty-eight hours, we will be husband and wife and free to do whatever we like.”

Molly smiled a bit. “I’m just thankful the wedding is at noon; I doubt we’d survive if we had to wait until evening.”

Sherlock nodded. “The vicar assured me the ceremony is only half an hour. Another half-hour at the reception, then we should be home by a quarter after one.”

“Do you really think my mother will let us leave our own reception after only half an hour?” she asked, smirking.

He smirked back. “Watson has agreed to distract her at my signal.”

“There’ll be hell to pay the next time we see her, then.” Her smile indicated she had no issue at all with his plan.

“Undoubtedly, but we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

Molly nodded. “I await her lecture on social etiquette with bated breath. Lord knows I’ve heard it often enough.”

“We’ll simply give her two minutes before I escort her out the door.” He reached out to take her hand. “I won’t have her upset you, not when it’s within my power to prevent it.”

“Thank you, my love,” she murmured, squeezing his hand lightly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize -- I mentioned in the beginning of this series that Molly is thirty, but I never mentioned Sherlock's age. I made him fifty since Jeremy Brett was fifty-one when he started as Sherlock. Louise Brealey was thirty-one when she started as Molly Hooper. I took a year off both of their ages because I thought it sounded better. An age gap of 20 years was probably a lot more common in the 1890's than it is now.
> 
> In the Victorian era, it was highly improper for women and men riding in a carriage together to sit on the same side unless they were related. I tried looking up if the same etiquette applied to trains but I couldn't find any guidelines. Still, I decided the rules were probably the same.

Molly smiled to herself as she continued to read her book despite her fiancé’s repeated attempts to engage her in conversation. _It’s no fault of mine that he didn’t come prepared for long train rides._ She had spent the train ride up from London kissing and conversing with him, but that was a week ago. Now, just a day before their wedding, she didn’t want to tempt him any further.

“You are a most unagreeable travel companion,” Sherlock muttered as he crossed his arms. Their compartment was small enough that, sitting across from each other, their knees nearly touched.

“I love you too,” she murmured, amused. _If he behaves, I’ll put the book away when I’m through with this chapter._

He sulked for another moment before reaching to gently take her free hand. “Forgive me, my dear,” he said, his contrition genuine.

She didn’t lower her book but she did look at him over the top and gave him a loving smile. “Sherlock, there’s nothing to forgive, I know you didn’t mean it. Now, will you please let me read in peace? I know you’re bored, darling, but I’m not.” _Especially since I have your antics to entertain me._

“Very well,” he conceded, kissing her hand before releasing it. He gave her a full five minutes of peace and quiet before asking hopefully, “I don’t suppose there’s a book for me in your bag?”

Molly chuckled, finally setting her open book in her lap before turning to the carpet bag beside her. Pulling out her copy of Jane Austen’s _Emma_ , she offered it to him. “Why don’t you try this?”

“Women’s literature?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, but he still accepted the book.

She rolled her eyes fondly. “See if you can deduce the hidden motives before they are revealed.”

His eyes lit up at that. “Is there a murder?”

“No,” she said, smiling a bit, “but there are plenty of secrets.”

“Hmm,” he said as he opened the book and started reading, much to Molly’s delight, and she went back to her copy of _Sense and Sensibility_.

By the time she finished her book, Sherlock was still reading his, completely engrossed in the story, and she took the time to admire her fiancé. _I must admit that what first drew me to him was his intelligence, but his physical form is very pleasing as well. More than pleasing, if I’m being honest. He’s so handsome and elegant. That face, those hands._ She sighed happily. _I’m such a lucky woman to have such a man love me as much as I love him._

Sherlock chuckled. Without looking up from his book, he said fondly, “I’m grateful a beautiful young woman such as yourself is attracted to a man like me.”

Molly couldn’t help blushing at being caught admiring him. “Our thoughts are going in the same direction.” She stole a glance at the door to see if anyone was passing their compartment. Seeing no one, she moved to sit beside him. The surprised look on Sherlock’s face quickly changed to delight when she kissed him softly then took his hand and smiled at him. “Now tell me, darling, what you meant by ‘a man like me.’”

He chuckled. “I must remember that I can never slip anything past you.”

“Even the fact that you’re stalling,” she said, smirking.

Sherlock smiled a bit, amused. “An older, unconventional bachelor.”

“Let’s take those one at a time, shall we?” She paused while Sherlock wrapped an arm around her then she continued. “We’ve already discussed our age difference. Yes, you’re fifty, but you are livelier than many men half your age.”

“I certainly feel young around you.”

She grinned at him. “There, you see? And as for you being unconventional, what do you think I am?”

“Perfect,” he murmured before kissing her hair.

Molly chuckled. “Neither of us are like our peers, so it’s not surprising that we were drawn to each other.”

“And what of my status as a lifelong bachelor?” His tone was conversational, but Molly could hear the nervousness beneath and feel the tension in his body. “I must admit that I have had few role models to follow when it comes to good husbands. My own father was one, of course, but I have no one in my life currently.”

“I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, Sherlock,” she murmured. “After all, a husband isn’t much different than a fiancé, and you have performed this role superbly.”

He chuckled and she could feel him relax again. “Thank you, my dear. I suppose you are right.”

“As always,” she murmured, grinning cheekily. “But darling, as long as you love me and any children we might have, you will be an excellent husband.”

“That I can do easily enough,” he murmured. “Now, what self-doubts are you harboring?”

She shrugged. “I have had many ideal role models for being a loving and supportive wife, but I worry that my inexperience in the bedroom will disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me, Molly. As for your inexperience, it simply means that there are things I can teach you, though I admit that my own experience is far from vast.”

She nodded. “I know the … mechanics of it, I suppose is the best way to put it. I may work exclusively with the dead, but I know how a new life is made.”

“The details we will decipher ourselves,” he smiled a bit, “and I’m certain we will enjoy it immensely.”

Molly smiled softly. “That I have no doubt, my love.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” Sherlock asked as they rode a hansom from the train station back to Baker Street that afternoon. “Assuming you’re not too tired of my presence,” he added, smirking.

“While I could never tire of your presence,” his fiancée said with a loving smile, “unfortunately, I must decline – my mother insisted that I have dinner with her tonight. No doubt, she’ll tell me to ‘lie back and think of England.’” Molly rolled her eyes.

He chuckled. “You could take the opportunity to ask her some of the questions you have.”

“I suppose, but I doubt she’ll be comfortable with them.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing quietly. “Women, and men, need proper education about sexual matters.”

“That I fully agree with. Unfortunately, our society would deem any such education as immoral, or at least highly improper.”

“Everything’s improper these days,” she muttered.

“Now you sound like me,” he said, smiling a bit. “If not dinner, then tea?”

“Tea would be lovely,” she murmured. “We can enjoy our last few hours of peace before the chaos of the wedding.” She lifted her head to look at him. “Did John plan a stag party for you?”

“Unfortunately,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “He thinks it’s a surprise, but I deduced it easily – a night at Watson’s club, with my brother and Lestrade also in attendance.”

Molly chuckled. “I can just picture it now – the groom, the best man, and both groomsmen, all hungover at the altar.”

“The others, perhaps, but I promise not to overindulge as I would prefer to enjoy our wedding day.”

“Thank you, my love,” she murmured before kissing his cheek.

He smiled at her softly. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Sherlock noticed something was off when Mrs. Hudson didn’t meet them at the door. “That’s odd,” he said as he helped Molly with her coat, “it’s not her usual shopping day.”

She smiled at him fondly. “Did she not tell you or were you simply not listening? Mrs. Turner said they might have tea together today. I assume they’re going to talk about us.”

“Undoubtedly,” he muttered as he hung up her coat and hat then removed his own and hung them up before leading the way up the stairs. “For the record, she didn’t tell me. I can’t offer you any tea, I’m afraid, but I can offer-” He cut himself off when he heard the distinct sound of shushing coming from the sitting room. Rolling his eyes, he decided to play along for once.

Molly’s grin was all the indication he needed that she heard the shushing as well. Taking her hand, he then opened the sitting room door.

“SURPRISE!”

Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Turner, John, Mycroft, Lestrade, and a young lady Sherlock didn’t know were grinning happily. Molly’s face lit up when she saw the other woman.

“Mary!” Molly rushed over to the woman and hugged her tightly. “I thought you couldn’t make it!”

The young lady laughed softly as she hugged her back. “Neither did I, but I finally persuaded my employer to let me have Christmas off. Mrs. Turner was kind enough to meet me at the station.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She turned to Sherlock, her smile proud. “Mary, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is my best friend, Miss Mary Morstan.”

He took Miss Morstan’s offered hand and the deductions came readily. “An honor to meet you, Miss Morstan. I see you are a governess just come from Bath and your young charge has recently taken up drawing.”

She smiled a bit. “I see Dr. Watson does not exaggerate your abilities in his stories, Mr. Holmes.”

“She said she’s read them all,” John said, more than a little proud.

_It doesn’t take a genius at deductive reasoning to see Watson’s already smitten with the newcomer. Good, it’s high time he settled down._ While John and Miss Morstan discussed his works, Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner approached them, both of them smiling proudly at their tenants.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mrs. Turner said. “We thought it would be nice to surprise you both with tea.”

“It was a wonderful idea,” Molly said happily. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank us,” Mrs. Hudson said, though her smile belied her words. “Now, have a seat and we’ll get your tea.”

They sat down on the settee and Lestrade smiled a bit. “I was surprised when Mrs. Hudson invited me – she said she was having tea for the people closest to the happy couple.”

Sherlock smiled back. “You bring me Work, Inspector. Why, without you and my clients, where would I be?”

“Shooting my walls, that’s where,” Mrs. Hudson said with a smirk as she handed him his tea, then she turned to Molly. “I hope you can dissuade him from that, Doctor.”

Molly chuckled but he, at least, noticed her faint blush. “I certainly hope so, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Yes, I can say with complete confidence that my days of shooting the wall are far behind me,” Sherlock said, grinning.

“Let’s hope that the soon-to-be Dr. Holmes keeps you out of all sorts of trouble,” Mycroft said, smirking.

“I make no promises,” Molly said with a grin. “Even if I manage to keep Sherlock out of the same kind of trouble he’s been in before, there’s always something new.”

Mycroft chuckled. “And if anyone is a magnet for trouble, it’s my brother.” He held up his teacup in toast to Sherlock.

“I’ll drink to that,” Mrs. Hudson said, smirking. “But at least he always finds a way out again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock said, smiling at her fondly.

“You’re welcome.” She turned to Molly. “We invited your mother, dear, but she declined.”

Molly sighed quietly. “I’m not surprised, but does it make me a disloyal daughter to say that I’m grateful she did decline?”

“Of course not,” Sherlock said reassuringly. “After all, you’ll see her at dinner.”

“Yes, but what I mean is that I’m grateful she’s not here now since this is a gathering of those closest to us. I love my mother, I always will, but we’ll never be close.”

“Not everyone has a close relationship with their parents,” Miss Morstan said. “I think that by the time one is an adult, it’s enough that you love each other.” She smiled a bit. “Having said that, I’ve known your mother since you and I were children and I can honestly say she is not the easiest person to get close to.”

“Hear, hear!” Mrs. Turner said, smirking.

Molly laughed softly. “Thank you, all of you. I’m so glad the rest of you are here with us.”

“As am I,” Sherlock said, smiling a bit. “Especially since we won’t see much of you for some time after the wedding.” Molly gently elbowed him in the ribs and he chuckled.

Lestrade smirked. “Yes, though I doubt London’s criminals will be as accommodating.”

“Watson knows my methods, and perhaps Mycroft might be of assistance, if he’s so inclined.”

John smiled happily. “I would be delighted to try, and Mycroft’s assistance would be most welcome, but I’m sure there are some cases that only Sherlock Holmes can solve.”

“We shall see,” Mycroft said, smirking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the Christmas in July 2020 prompt "caroling" and a kiss prompt afteriwake sent me -- "A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company."
> 
> In connection with the Christmas in July prompt -- Jeremy Brett had a lovely [singing voice](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_DR79MyxOCM).

When everyone was enjoying their tea, Mrs. Turner announced, “Gentlemen, will you excuse us? Mrs. Hudson and I have something we’d like to discuss with the bride. We’ll leave Miss Morstan here to keep an eye on you.”

Mary smiled a bit. “I promise I’ll keep them out of trouble.”

Molly hugged her friend then followed the two landladies downstairs to Mrs. Hudson’s sitting room. “I know what you’re going to say,” she said as she sat down on the settee. “You want to know if I have any questions about tomorrow night.”

“More like tomorrow afternoon,” Mrs. Turner said, smirking, as she sat down next to her. “I’ve seen the way you look at Mr. Holmes.”

“And the way he looks at you,” Mrs. Hudson said, smiling a bit, as she sat down in the chair. “Neither of us think the two of you will save consummating your marriage until nightfall.”

Molly blushed happily. “We decided we are only staying half an hour at the reception. Sherlock has it worked out with John.”

“Your mother won’t like that,” Mrs. Turner said, “but I will help Dr. Watson however I can.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” she said, smiling gratefully. “I’m sorry to leave you without a tenant.”

The older woman waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about that, child. Your Mr. Holmes has offered to pay the rent until I can find a new one.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled knowingly. “If Dr. Watson has made as favorable an impression on Miss Morstan as I think he has, perhaps she’ll be your next tenant.”

“You noticed that too?” Molly asked, grinning. “He’s so adorably open about his feelings and Mary’s a bit more reserved, but I can tell she likes him.”

“He told me his new flat is too far from Baker Street for his liking,” Mrs. Hudson said, “even though it’s closer to his surgery. I think if Miss Morstan decides to reside in London, we’ll see a great deal of both of them.”

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Molly asked happily.

“Do you have questions for us, dear?” Mrs. Hudson asked gently.

“Questions your books cannot answer,” Mrs. Turner added.

Molly hesitated. “How do I please him? I suppose that’s my only real question. Sherlock said-”

“I should have known the two of you have already had a discussion about this,” Mrs. Turner said, her eyes dancing.

“Once or twice,” she admitted. “He said that we will learn as we go.”

“That’s how all married couples are,” Mrs. Hudson said gently. “Take your time, be gentle and patient with each other, and every effort will be rewarded.”

“Just don’t forget to laugh together,” Mrs. Turner added. “Marital relations can be awkward, especially at first, messy, and exhausting, but you will be with the love of your life and so happy, laughter is bound to happen.”

Mrs. Hudson nodded, smiling a bit. “Just don’t laugh _at_ him, only _with_ him.”

Molly nodded. “What about the pain?”

“It’s different for every woman,” Mrs. Turner said gently. “But if he’s gentle and considerate, it won’t hurt as much.”

“I’ve never known Sherlock to be anything but gentle and considerate,” Molly said, smiling softly

Mrs. Hudson nodded. “That’s a sign of how much he loves you – he’s not that way with most people.”

Molly’s smile widened. “I know.” She hesitated. “The pain is only the first time, right?”

Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner glanced at each other before turning back to her. “That depends on your anatomy and his,” Mrs. Turner said. “No matter what his … erm … size, it will take time for your body to adjust.”

Molly could feel the warmth in her face. “But the more we’re together, the faster I will adjust?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson said, “but don’t overexert yourself – you’ll likely be sore the first few times.”

“It’s a lot of physical effort,” Mrs. Turner added. “So, rest in between.”

“I don’t think we’ll make love more than once a day,” Molly said, still blushing.

Both ladies grinned at that. “Maybe after the first year or so,” Mrs. Hudson said, “but until then, I think you and Mr. Holmes will find that you want to make love multiple times a day.”

She couldn’t help giggling. “We really won’t get anything done for a while then, will we?”

* * *

By the time the ladies had returned, Sherlock was convinced that Miss Morstan was a young lady more than worthy of his friend, and that John, while perhaps never truly worthy of her, just as he himself would never be truly worthy of Molly, would make her a devoted husband. _It’s simply a matter of time._

He stood up, grinning, when he saw Molly enter the room then went over to take her hands. “It’s time to say goodnight, my dear.”

“Don’t forget to kiss her goodnight, Holmes,” John said, grinning widely.

Molly grinned up at him happily, her eyes dancing. “Yes, this’ll be the last time you see me before the wedding.”

“How can I forget?” he murmured. Mindful of their friends and Mycroft watching them, he lowered his head to give her a soft, quick kiss on the lips. The sounds of disappointment from the others barely registered, all he noticed was Molly’s happy blush.

“Our next kiss will be as husband and wife,” she murmured.

“Indeed,” he said, grinning. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but before he had a chance, John grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the room.

He could hear Molly giggle then she called out, “Until tomorrow, darling!”

Sherlock grinned all the way to John’s club.

* * *

Molly was just about to retire to her mother’s guestroom when she heard music outside. _It’s almost midnight, who could that be?_ She went to the sitting room window and opened the curtain to find her fiancé and a group of carolers. Unmindful of the cold, she opened the window and leaned out.

“Darling, what-”

He grinned up at her, his cheeks ruddy, and started to sing. “ _Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes, Venite, venite in Bethlehem. Natum videte, Regem angelorum: Venite adoremus, Venite adoremus, Venite adoremus Dominum_.” It was her favorite Christmas carol, but nothing was better than hearing Sherlock’s beautiful voice.

The carolers then sang the verse in English. “O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant! O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem; Come and behold him Born the King of Angels: O come, let us adore him, O come, let us adore him, O come, let us adore him Christ the Lord.”

By the time they were done with the verse, Molly was standing at the top of the building’s front steps, unable to stop grinning with delight at her husband-to-be. Sherlock was grinning just as widely as he approached her.

“I hope you don’t mind, my dear,” he murmured as the carolers started the second verse. “I had to see you one last time before tomorrow.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Molly murmured as he climbed the steps to join her at the top.

He made a show of checking his pocket watch. “Five minutes until midnight.”

“Plenty of time,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

They kissed with all of the passion and longing that had built up over the course of their engagement, and Molly knew their next kiss would only be better.


	5. Chapter 5

“Another telegram for you, Doctor,” the butler said as he held out the silver tray. His tone and expression showed no emotion, as was proper for a butler, but his eyes were dancing with amusement.

Molly grinned as she took the envelope from the tray. “Thank you, Stevens.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “That’s the fifth one today, the second one this hour.”

She chuckled as she opened the envelope. “What can I say, Sherlock misses me.”

_Molly,_

_I love you, more than I can say. I am counting the hours until I am your devoted husband._

_Your devoted fiancé_

Her smile grew with every word as she read the telegram over and over. Each of the telegrams had been like that – Sherlock declaring his unending love and limited patience. Molly had stopped sending telegrams in reply after the second one – he was happy to simply have her know how he felt.

“I certainly hope he’s less demonstrative after the wedding,” Juliana said as she sipped her coffee. “Such behavior is unseemly in a married man.”

“I disagree,” Molly said. “I would much rather have my husband tell me what he’s feeling than keep it to himself. He is truly in love for the first time in his life and I want him to experience it fully.” Her mother started to reply but she held up a hand. “I ask that you not criticize Sherlock in my hearing again, Mama. I’m not asking you to love him or even like him, but he is going to be my husband and my loyalty is going to be to him above everyone else, even you, for the rest of our lives.”

“I … see,” Juliana said quietly.

Molly reached over to gently take her hand. “I love you, Mama. I always will. Nothing can change that. My heart is large enough to fit you and Sherlock, as well as everyone else dear to me.”

Juliana smiled weakly as she squeezed her hand. “You have your father’s heart. I promise, I will not criticize your husband again. He … he is a good man and I know he loves you. All I want, all I ever wanted, is for you to be happy.”

Molly smiled at her. “I am, more than I have ever been.”

“Then I hope that never changes.”

* * *

Sherlock was about to send a sixth telegram when John interrupted.

“Really, Holmes, you must give the poor woman a chance to prepare for the wedding instead of reading telegrams all morning,” he said, grinning.

Sherlock huffed in annoyance but finally conceded. “Very well. What time is it?”

“Five minutes after the last time you asked.” He grinned. “Go get dressed, it will use up some of that nervous energy of yours.”

Sherlock shot his best friend and best man a grin before getting up and heading to his, soon to be his and Molly’s, bedroom. The new bed had been delivered two days before and it was more than large enough for both of them, no matter what they wanted to do in it.

Naturally, his thoughts turned to what he and Molly would do in the bed. _Stop right there,_ he ordered himself. _You don’t have time for another bath._ Instead, he turned his thoughts to the ceremony. _I can only hope I’m able to say the vows in the sight of my darling Molly. No matter what gown she chose, she will be the most radiant bride in history._

By the time he walked back to the sitting room, Mycroft and Lestrade were there, both dressed for the wedding. Sherlock grinned. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Mycroft grinned back. “It certainly is. How are you holding up, little brother?”

Before Sherlock could reply, John cut in. “As well as can be expected, which is to say he’s driving me, and Molly from a distance, to distraction.”

Lestrade chuckled. “It’ll all be over soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Sherlock muttered.

“Just think, Sherlock,” Mycroft said as he sat down on the settee, “a year ago, you would have balked at the very idea of marrying anyone. Now, look at you – as devoted a man as I have ever seen. I daresay our parents would be very proud of you.”

“We all are,” John added. “Meeting Molly was the best thing that could have happened to you.”

“And I’d say meeting you was the best thing that could have happened to her,” Lestrade said. “There’s a light in her that she kept hidden until you brought it out.”

“Thank you, all of you,” he said, bowing his head in acknowledgement, then he turned to John. “What time is it?”

John rolled his eyes fondly. “Finally, it’s time to leave.”

* * *

Sherlock stood at the altar beside John, Mycroft, and Lestrade, waiting for the first sight of his bride. The two bridesmaids, friends of Molly’s from medical school, walked down the aisle, followed by Miss Morstan. Normally, Sherlock would have noted every detail of the ladies’ gowns and bouquets, but his entire focus was on the back of the church.

Just when he felt he couldn’t wait any longer, the organist started playing “Here Comes The Bride” and a vision in white appeared. His younger self would have chided him on such poetic language, but there was no other word for it. Molly walked alone up the aisle, the linen handkerchief just sticking out of one long sleeve a way to keep her late father with her.

Knowing there would be plenty of time later to note the details of her bouquet and gown, Sherlock kept his eyes on Molly’s face. Her beauty shown brightly, even through the veil. When she reached the altar, she gave her bouquet to Miss Morstan and Sherlock belatedly remembered to offer her his hand.

Molly took it, grinning at him happily, and he grinned back, unmindful of the vicar, the wedding party, and everyone else.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've come to the end of this fic but don't worry, their wedding night will be the next new story in the series.
> 
> This chapter was inspired by a prompt afteriwake sent me -- "Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss."

Molly scarcely heard anything the vicar said during his sermon, her focus was solely on Sherlock. The man who had famously disavowed love in the past was gazing at her, his eyes shining with it. After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, it was time for the vows.

Taking both of Sherlock’s hands, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves, though his gentle and loving gaze was more than enough. “I, Margaret Anne Hooper, take thee, Sherlock Holmes, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you.”

Sherlock grinned. “I, Sherlock Holmes, take thee, Margaret Anne Hooper, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you.”

The exchanging of rings passed in a blur for Molly, though looking back later, she ascribed that to the happy tears in her eyes. Finally, the vicar said the words she longed to hear.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Sherlock lifted the veil with Mary’s help, his gaze so soft, so tender as he whispered, “I love you.”

Molly felt those happy tears stream down her face as she smiled at him softly. “I love you too,” she whispered back as he took her hands in his once more before lowering his head to give her a soft kiss that was just the barest touch of his lips, both of them mindful of the setting, but it meant the world to her.

The look in his eyes afterwards that told her he’d kiss her properly as soon as they were alone helped as well. They walked out of the church to the organist playing Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March,” their loved ones wishing them well as they passed them.

As soon as they were in the carriage and heading for her mother’s house, Sherlock pulled her into his lap, fur-trimmed cape, embellished skirt and all, and kissed her soundly. She kissed him back, sighing into his mouth, then pulled back to grin at him. “Mr. Holmes.”

He grinned back. “Dr. Holmes. I have half a mind to take you to Baker Street instead.”

“As tempting as that sounds, John and Mrs. Turner agreed to cover for us leaving the reception early, not bypassing it entirely.”

Sherlock sighed overdramatically. “Very well, if we must.”

She giggled then softly kissed his cheek. “I love you, my husband.”

“And I love you, my wife. Such a precious pair of words, ‘my wife,’ but even more precious is their meaning.”

“And just as precious is ‘my husband.’” She kissed him softly. “There were times before I met you that I was certain I’d never have this, that I would always be alone.”

“Just as I was certain that I should be alone. How wrong we both were.”

Molly smiled a bit, her eyes dancing. “No regrets? You don’t miss your unencumbered bachelor days?”

“No regrets,” he said. “I realize now that there was an emptiness inside me that didn’t begin to fill until I met you.”

“Oh, darling…” She was about to kiss him again when the carriage pulled up in front of her mother’s house.

Sherlock quickly deposited her beside him then he stepped out of the carriage before helping her out. Stevens met them at the door.

“Mr. and Dr. Holmes, let me be the first to congratulate you,” he said, smiling proudly, as he took her cape and his coat.

Molly grinned at him. “Thank you, Stevens.”

“You’re welcome, Doctor. Everything is ready for you in the ballroom.”

“Thank you.” Taking Sherlock’s hand, she walked with him to the ballroom. It was decorated with white hellebore and poinsettia, white satin ribbons, and swaths of white organza. Molly loved it. “It’s like a winter fairyland.”

“Not the words I would have chosen,” Sherlock said, “but it does look lovely. Not to mention chilly.” He led her to the far end of the room, where there was a crackling fire in the fireplace.

Molly warmed her hands at the fire. “It’ll warm up as the others arrive. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the church could only hold so many, so there will be quite a few more people here.”

“What joy is mine,” Sherlock muttered.

She giggled then gently nudged him in the ribs when her mother, John, Mycroft, and Lestrade entered the room.

* * *

After a seemingly endless receiving line, Sherlock and Molly were finally able to sit down to the so-called wedding breakfast. “We should have left fifteen minutes ago,” he murmured to her. “Another ten minutes and I will give John the signal.”

Molly chuckled then murmured back, amused, “Sherlock, it’s going to take longer than that – Mother will certainly notice if we leave before all of the formalities are finished.”

“What else is there? We greeted half of London; Watson, my brother, and your mother gave speeches; and now we’re eating.”

She smiled a bit. “No, I’m eating, you haven’t touched your food. Eat something, Sherlock. After all, you’ll need energy for tonight.”

He could feel warmth on his face and tried to blame it on the heat of the room but it was useless. “I … er … ate this morning.”

Molly grinned then looked over at John, who was regaling Miss Morstan with another story. “Dr. Watson, did my husband have breakfast this morning?”

Sherlock shot the man a dirty look behind Molly but John simply ignored him and grinned at her. “Dr. Holmes, your husband was far too nervous to ingest anything beyond a single cup of coffee.”

“That’s what I thought, thank you.” She turned back to Sherlock, smirking. “You were saying?”

Sherlock huffed in annoyance before starting on his food. “Twenty minutes.”

“There’s still our dance.”

“Thirty minutes, then.”

His gruffness was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.

After the breakfast and the cake, it was finally time for the dancing. Sherlock led Molly onto the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. Despite his desire to take Molly home as soon as possible, he was more than happy to dance with her.

“Do you remember our first waltz?” he asked as he led her around the floor, Molly expertly holding up the train of her gown as she danced with him.

She smiled softly. “How can I forget? You saved me from what probably would have ended in an engagement to a widower old enough to be my grandfather.”

“And myself from a life of utter boredom. Or at least, that’s how it felt.” Just as the first time, they moved effortlessly together, completely in sync with each other. _It should bode well for later._ As the tune ended, he murmured, “Are you ready to leave, my dear?”

Molly smiled at him happily. “Yes, darling. Let’s go home.”

He led her off the dance floor as other couples made their way to it. Catching John’s eye, he nodded. John nodded back and went over to talk to Juliana, with Mrs. Turner joining them.

Sherlock and Molly left her mother’s house as quickly as they could, laughing like errant schoolchildren as they climbed into the carriage. Their married life was starting with subterfuge and they wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
